


How to train your Lord Marshall

by RussianWitch



Category: The Chronicles of Riddick (2004), The Chronicles of Riddick Series
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Dubious Morality, Multi, Pre-Slash, Slash, Talking, Universe Building, drabbles not in sequence, will be expanded
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-17
Updated: 2018-11-20
Packaged: 2019-02-16 00:22:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 44
Words: 13,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13042626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RussianWitch/pseuds/RussianWitch
Summary: Drabbles, shorts collection, following directly after the movie.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Not beta'd
> 
> Chapters /NOT/ sequential.

"You had your eyes 'shine-job' by a 'doc' in some subterranean slam?" Vaako sneers from somewhere by the door. 

"What? No faith?" He doesn't bother looking, looking would mean picking up the goggles—and he's comfortable where he is. Even with the lights on, the room is dim enough that he isn't in too much pain sneaking a glance here and there. 

"Would you like me to call one of the medical technicians?" He barely hears the Necro move, even with the armor that should be clanking all over the place.  

"Yeah, pass—seen their work, not a fan." The bed is covered in sheets that feel like water, slick and cool under his hands. 

He wonders what color they are, wonders if Vaako would tell him if asked, or just ignore the question like everything else that isn't to his liking. 

"The Threshold will reject flawed supplicants." He should take offense, but there is just something about Vaako he likes.  

Not a lot of people qualify—fewer qualify and live. 

Someone with a hard-on for death anyway— he stretches, baring his throat just a little, and smirks when the armor clanks. 

"Ya calling me defective?" He asks mildly, curious what it would take to push Vaako past keeping his composure. 

"I am advising, my Lord, as is my duty," Vaako says, "and would prefer not to have to find a new Lord Marshall, after cleaning up the mess that is left of you if you do not qualify." 

One wave of the hand and the room is plunged into darkness, Vaako's hand goes for his blaster, but Riddick is faster, jumping over the foot of the bed, and twisting the Necro's arm behind his back. 

"Nice of you ta worry," he assures the struggling man, "but I've got this." 

Close up, the Necro smells of death, gun grease, and metal—but underneath it all... 

"Not as dead as you pretend to be, are ya?" He smirks, inhaling loudly. Vaako tenses, his muscles straining as he tries to jerk his gun hand free. 

"You speak sacrilege!" 

"Should I care?" Riddick releases Vaako, pushing him away. He likes the Necro's temper: the way Vaako bristles like an angry feline when pushed, but all the religious crap... 

"Convert or die is part of the credo," Vaako growls, spinning out of the way. 

"Guess there's gonna be a lot of corpses," Riddick shrugs. 


	2. Chapter 2

"What are you doing?" Vaako wonders, seeing the mess of threads and rods in the Lord Marshall's hands.  

"Knitting," Riddick shrugs with a smirk, that leaves Vaako with the suspicion he's the butt of one of the Lord Marshall's jokes. 

"And the purpose of this 'knitting' is?" He watches the rods move passing the knotted thread from one to the other. 

The Lord Marshall's fingers do not look limber enough for activity that looks so delicate, Vaako doesn't quite expect Riddick to stab him, but the smooth way with which the tangle grows into something that resembles rough cloth fascinates him. 

"Don't have a lot or reason ta kill time, do ya?" Riddick asks, jerking his head towards the chair next to his. 

Every etiquette lesson he's had to sit through as a sub-commander screams at Vaako to remain standing. The Lord Marshall does not value etiquette, or tradition, either doesn't understand it or doesn't care. His refusal to speak to the Purifier, is still a sore spot for many, especially the new Purifier himself who had waited for years for a chance for an audition with the Lord Marshall. 

"I am needed in the command center—, he hedges, the spot between his shoulder blades already itching at the coming assassination attempts.   

"Sit ya ass down," the Lord Marshall snaps loud enough for the guards outside of the room to overhear, trapping Vaako into following the order and perching on the ornate chair as well as his armor allows him to, "and tell me what the hell you stiffs do for fun around here, when you aren't too busy sneering at each other."  

"Each cast has their duties, my lord, which take up a large portion of their time—,"  

"Couldn't guess it by me," Riddick interrupts him, "with half of them hanging around in front of my door."  

"Those," Vaako sighs, "are in fact, your advisors. They are there to assist you in assuming your duties." Which would have been obvious to anyone... 

"You do it," Riddick folds the rods into one hand, and points with the sharp-looking ends. The rods may be used as weapons, they remind Vaako of the hairpins his wife used to have, the pits coated with poison. 

"I—am not suitable," he defers, ignoring the urge to slap the possible weapon out of the Lord Marshall's hand, or possibly stab him with it in turn. The Law dictates that no hand be raised to the new Lord Marshall until the Threshold has been visited, for the perpetrator will reap only dust and ash for his dishonor. But, as the Dame has pointed out, Riddick is _not_ of the faith, he has _not_ been Converted and Purified—to have him on the throne is a travesty, a prophesized one, but a travesty nonetheless. 

"Ain't that for me ta decide?" The Lord Marshall asks, and Vaako allows himself a sigh. 

"Would my Lord know a Purifier from a waste technician at this point in time?" He can't help ask. 

"Yeah, the pure-shit peddlers have fancier uniforms," Riddick tells him happily. 


	3. Chapter 3

The Necropolis is a city floating in space. 

Pretty statues, and dark hallways, all tin soldiers, and glittering dolls, along with ghosts where you least expect them.  

Fronts and mirrors, lies and fairy tales—but underneath it all...Riddick can feel the engines like a heartbeat everywhere he goes, a dull throbbing in the upper levels turning into a savage beat as he descends into the bowls of the ship. 

The already dim hallways grow darker, starker, populated with the rank and file scurrying around so focused on their tasks that they don't notice their supposed prophet strolling around acquainting himself with the territory.  

Barracks big enough for a skeleton crew, several levels of cryogenic units just above the engine rooms, and in between the plebs and the nobles, a whole three levels of purification chambers, marks getting tortured into—something... 

Not very appealing, the stench of suffering drives him away, the scents in the barracks more familiar, soldiers smell like soldiers everywhere after all. Them, killers, he understands; no agenda, not after the purification shtick as far as he can tell from the files Vaako has been shoving at him. They live to kill, and the reward it brings, when they live that is. He stays away from the Purification levels, a city worth of chumps getting tortured into submission, the priests getting their jollies watching them squirm—some of the slams had been more cheerful.

The Head Purifier had been a Furyan, according to his own words. Had he helped to slaughter his people for the chance to live—Riddick doesn't want to care about the past, doesn't want to give a shit about knowing the name of the place he came from, but ever since Crematoria—he didn't used to dream, now he hates going to sleep.  

In his dreams, a woman demands he avenge his people, demands he find Furya. 

He smells the female long before she turns the corner. 

Vaako's woman, she still smells beautiful, but now that he knows to scent for it—of death and decay too.

If he cut her open, Riddick wouldn't be surprised to find only rot and maggots, not that it makes her less interesting. 

"Slumming?" He wonders, keeping out of arm's reach.  

"How can I be slumming when you are here, my Lord?" She smiles, the way a snake smiles, posing with all of her assets on display just on the edge of light and shadow where he can see best. Wondering where she keeps the knife—he crowds her against the wall, and she lets it happen, laying her hands on his chest, claw-shaped rings pricking through his shirt. No fear to smell, no lust either...

"Ya good for anything 'xcept talkin'?" He tightens his grip on her arm watching for discomfort and gets—nothing. 

"Whatever my Lord desires..." she throws her head back, a practiced gesture, a pretty show, he wonders how often the last head Necro had seen it, how often Vaako had.

"Maybe later," he thinks back to Fry—she had been easy to read, soft, a backbone of steel when push came to shove. Every emotion showing on her face and in her frame. Not like the snake in front of him, all sharp edges and hooks, nothing soft in her, in none of the female creatures in on the whole ship, maybe in the whole fleet. 

"As my Lord wishes!" She smiles, with a bow low enough to show off her tits, "now would my Lord want to perhaps inspect the troops? They have been eager to be blessed by the presence of their new leader." 

He wonders what it is that she doesn't want him to find, noting the hallway, and how she'd managed to find him.  


	4. Chapter 4

'Early' is not a concept that exists in an army. 

Vaako had not considered that the new Lord Marshall would not be clear on the definition. Having waited an hour, he goes in search of the breeder. The servants report having been locked out of his quarters, and that no concubines had been summoned the night before—had never been summoned in fact. 

He orders the guards out of the hallway, and checks for spies before overriding the lockout and forcing the doors. 

One of the privileges of the Lord Marshall's quarters are windows, all of which have been blacked out. The light from the hallway gives him access to a square of illumination, but the sensors do not respond to his request for light. 

He hesitates at the very edge of the light, squinting into the murky darkness trying to discern the shapes of furniture at least. 

What if Lord Marshall has disappeared?  

He had assumed that everyone who earned it, would want the mantle and the duties that came along with it. Riddick remains ambivalent about the luxuries and privileges. 

Still, Vaako has found some ways to lure Lord Marshall into cooperation. His main reasons for caution are the Lord Marshall's pets, who so far have stayed confined to quarters meant for the Lord Marshall's consort. 

He had to dispatch a frigate to pick them up, and in exchange gotten Lord Marshall into proper garments suitable for a Lord. 

They are large bruits, the 'hounds' vicious and temperamental, pack animals who have learned to hate everything on two legs, except, it seems, one Furyan whom they may or may not have accepted as their own.  

One small step takes him over the border of light and dark, where the click of sharp nails on metal freezes him in place. 

Silver eyes glimmer in the darkness, low to the ground, it could be any one of the animals. 

"My Lord?" He asks cautiously, folding his arms behind his back, where he can easily reach the knife concealed at the small of his back. His Due Time will _not_ be at the teeth and claws of animals, his will be a worthy crossing to the Underverse, even if— 

"Ya look tense, Vaako, the Dame not taking care of ya?" Lord Marshall asks from somewhere in the darkness, from the direction of the eyes it seems. Vaako turns towards them and is grabbed from behind, pulled back against the breeder's chest.  

The light armor they are wearing clanks as it connects, the Lord Marshall's grip on his wrist hard enough for Vaako to feel through the gauntlet.  

"There are things I need to discuss, my Lord, that cannot wait until my Lord is bored enough to address them." His arm is twisted higher, forcing his shoulders back until he's bend backward and off balance. 

"Drop the 'my lord', or stop naggin'," Lord Marshall growls against the base of his neck, before pushing him away. 


	5. Chapter 5

'You keep what you kill' has been the credo as long as he can remember, are words he has lived by and killed by, Vaako has never imagined being on the 'keep' end of the law. 

Finding Wula, dead in a puddle of silk and blood in front of the door to their quarters, had been a shock. There had always been a chance of her perishing, the road to rank and privilege was bloody after all, but he hadn't expected to find her with a knife in her back.  

Poison was more in vogue among the Concubines and Dames and the knife... Vaako wonders if this was how Wula felt, but then she had been expecting the challenge to her then Lord, had been waiting for him in their new quarters posed like a piece of art, the victor's prize. 

Vaako doesn't feel very much like any kind of prize.  

Should he have known this was coming? He wonders, calling for the cleanup of the hallway.  

The First among Commanders to be kept...

He's tempted to call the Head Purifier, demand the law be re-examined and explained, demand that—, he would, if he didn't recognize the knife. 

Lord Marshall has decided that Vaako is his, killed for the privilege of ownership, and Vaako—doesn't get any say. 

He pulls the knife out of his former wife's back, turning her over to look at her face for the last time.  

She looks softer in death, approachable almost, her throat cut with something sharp enough to barely leave a wound just above the line of her choker, the drying blood looking like it's part of her dress, meant to beautify the whole.

The knife in her back a message to Vaako, and everyone who cares to look, and gossip about it. 

She is cold to the touch when he traces the fatal cut, but then she always was.  

He had grown impatient with her scheming, and yet, she had been _his_ and he had always valued his possessions. 

Lord Marshall—values his weapons if nothing else, and what is Vaako, if not a weapon?  

Straightening up, he resolves to obey the law to the letter—a resolve that lasts until he turns.  


	6. Chapter 6

"Ya know, most of those are good for stabbing a man," he traces one of the knives with a finger smudging the edge. 

"Try to keep the urge contained," Vaako's hands curl into fists as this side, and the faint scent of him teases at Riddick's nostrils, "good captains are—difficult to find." 

"Can't imagine why, nice safe job, bombing the shit out of people from orbit," he tells Vaako as innocently as he can. 

Having a formal dinner with the captains of the fleet, he'd laugh at the very idea, but isn't sure he'd be able to stop. The food looks pretty, but doesn't taste of anything and is just barely good enough to keep him alive, he's tempted to order them now to a planet, just to hunt down something decent to eat. 

"The call of the Underverse is strong, every Necromonger dreams of a timely transition," turning away Riddick mouths the words along, having heard them what feels like a thousand times already. The so-called faith is full of empty platitudes and no explanations. 

'Kill them all, take their shit', would work just as fine and save everyone breath, but that's not as pretty apparently. 

"Bet they do," Riddick circles the table, stopping at Vaako's back. He grips the chair in front of him, and keeps still, still enough to hear the Lord Marshall shift, and wonder what the breeder is doing, why he has to stand so close, "how about you, Vaako?" 

He turns, finding himself almost colliding with the Lord Marshall, "what about me, my Lord?" 

"Got a death wish?" He feels the edge of a blade against his throat, the tip pricking the soft flesh under his jaw. 

"I only long to serve honorably," he slows his breathing, staring at a point on the wall above the Lord Marshall's right ear.  

"Always with the 'honorable' shit," the blade scrapes along his jaw as Riddick pushes closer, his breath hot on Vaako's throat.  

Annoyed with himself and the breeder, Vaako holds his ground, ignoring the knife slicing his flesh, using the few inches of height advantage he has to loom. 

"I could join a plot against you if my Lord prefers," he growls, surprised to feel the blade disappearing. 

"That's better," Riddick huffs, patting Vaako on the cheek, "I like feisty." 


	7. Chapter 7

Riddick drags his fingers along the edge of the consoles as he circles the bridge like a trapped animal. 

He rubs his fingers along the arms of the throne as he listens to petitions, or plays with one of the knives he always carries. 

He touches people as well, slaps and squeezes shoulders to draw attention to something, crowds his subjects against objects and walls, is disturbingly tactile where protocol dictates touch is a private affair. 

The Purifiers had been horrified, claiming touch corrupts to anyone willing to listen—as long as it was out of Lord Marshall's sight or, more to the point, hearing. 

Vaako's dame had adjusted with alacrity, as much as she was capable of any, engineering reasons to stay in arm's reach of Lord Marshall, following his example to keep her rivals from interfering, and offering all the bare skin that is decent to the touch. 

The breeder seems fascinated, but then, so was Vaako once upon a time.  

He had killed to earn her, had risen through the ranks for her, and she-she had taught him a lot, about ambition and rootlessness, about weapons other than blasters and knives, the way a look could pierce right through any armor. 

To see her toy with the Lord Marshall, in the same way, has Vaako wondering if it isn't time for Purification, not that he has the time. He'd need two shifts taken out of his busy schedule for Purification, two shifts which could be used far more productively keeping the fleet running. 

Watching his dame, the way she drapes herself across the Lord Marshall's arm, he doesn't look particularly impressed—yet he's given her far more attention than any of the unattached Concubines, or Dames of higher rank. 

If the female he had brought from Crematoria had lived, would the Lord Marshall have taken her, Vaako wonders? She, Kira he recalls, would not have made a very good Concubine, though she could have been a commander in her own right with some training.  

"Vaako!" The Lord Marshall thunders across the throne room, and caught, he steps out of the shadows making his way towards to the throne.  

"My Lord?" He salutes just to watch the Lord Marshall's mouth curl in distaste, "how can I serve you?" 

The once-over he receives, has him gritting his teeth to keep from reminding the Lord Marshall to save his attentions for the Concubines. Even through the goggles, he can feel the heat of it right through the light armor he's wearing. 

Wula glares at him, the promise of a knife in his back or poison in his cup in her eyes, and the prospect of catering to whatever absurd thing the Lord Marshall is sure to come up with is suddenly less onerous.   


	8. Chapter 8

He keeps the armor on, despite knowing it will have to come off sooner than later. 

The Lord Marshall's chambers are unusually light, with one of the windows uncovered. 

Vaako can see the comet glow and beyond it, the distant stars they haven't gotten around extinguishing yet behind that. 

The door closes behind him with a hiss, and Vaako is left standing in the middle of the room. 

Waiting, not quite sure for what exactly. 

The hounds are there, of course, he can hear them move around slinking along the walls, coming close enough that Vaako would feel their breath if it wasn't for the armor.  

"They like ya," Riddick says, appearing in silhouette against the window, "don't like most stiffs." 

"I had noticed," it was hard to miss, having to call for clean up after finding half-eaten Lensors in the hallways. 

"Wonder why?" He leans back against the window, sprawling on the window ledge like it's a throne. 

"I would not care to speculate," Vaako doesn't know what he's supposed to do. There are no rules to guide him here, a Concubine would have stripped down already, artfully enticing their new Lord into further conquest. Vaako reaches for the clasp that holds the sides of his chest plate, stalling as the Lord Marshall's full attention settles on him heavily. 

"What ya doing here, Vaako?" The Lord Marshall growls, the tone familiar enough to restore Vaako's equilibrium enough that he finishes with the rest of the clasps, ripping the armor off his chest. 

"You keep what you kill, is one of the most sacred tenants of our faith." He rids himself of his arm guards, dropping them to the floor, one of the hounds emerges from the shadows and disappears again with the right one in its maul. 

"That tells me shit," Riddick cocks his head, a shiv flashing as it dances in his hand. 

"I—," his hands go to his belt, and Vaako stalls again. 

Not everything in numbed by Purification, some desires remain by Concubines and Dames in those of higher rank, in each other when soldiers feel them. He thinks back on his youth, the rough touch of his unit-mates... 

"Ya usually aren't this—shy," Riddick mocks from the darkness, sounding closer, having moved while Vaako was lost in memories.  


	9. Chapter 9

He bolts from the Lord Marshall's quarters leaving his armor behind, shoving one of the hounds aside when it tries to get in his way with a curse. The spiked scales cut his hands, but he barely notices, too consumed with sensations still echoing through his body.  

Duty stops him halfway to his quarters, at one of the terminals to order an extra guard to the corridor, once that is done, some composure returns and he realizes his rooms aren't an option. 

The barracks are a comfort, the ones used for new recruits before they are put into cryo empty and dark.  

He turn on the showers, filling the chamber with steam and noise that almost manages to drown out the hum of the engines. In the middle of the barrage of water, he finds his center again, the place Purification taught him to access deep in his mind where he is only cold, rational thought.  

The steps he has to take, to reach the Underverse, shine bright leading to a churning vortex hanging in the middle of space, god's eye, demon's mouth, the gate to eternity.  

It isn't pain that pulls him back, it's motion: the sensation of falling—right into the Lord Marshall's arms. They close around him, 'greedily' shoots through his mind, pulling him back against the Lord Marshall's bare chest. 

Vaako lashes out, elbowing Riddick in the ribs, but the Furyan ignores the assault, gathering Vaako's braids in his fist like a leash and forcing him down onto the slippery floor. It is what's supposed to have happened in the Lord Marshall's quarters, Vaako should have kneeled of his own accord—offered himself... 

"This what you expect?" Riddick growls, spreading Vaako's legs with his knees, settling heavily on Vaako's back as he fights for breath while trying not to breath water, "mounted like a bitch—," the mocking breaks through the dogma of obedience. Vaako bucks, catching Riddick's wrist, twisting his hand out of his hair, kicking the breeder away. 

The Lord Marshall slides across the wet floor, twisting into a crouch, and disappearing into the steam clouds as Vaako scrambles to his feet. 

He rises, pushing hair out of his face, wishing he'd taken a knife along into the shower, wanting to attack—but reminding himself that obedience is prized above all. 

"Or is that just ya thing, Vaako?" Riddick asks from somewhere across the room, "Ya like lying there and taking it?"  

Vaako sees a shadow in the steam and lunges, hands slipping on wet skin, his legs getting kicked from under him.  

Giving into the anger, he forgets everything but the rush of violence, of hitting and kicking, falling, pulling back and attacking again until he's out of breath and disoriented by the steam and water. The Lord Marshall's laughter echoes off the walls, the booming sound rising above the sound of rushing water is that of pure enjoyment, taunting Vaako into forgetting his training, and blindly throwing himself at Riddick again and again until he's driven into a corner. 

Riddick catches his hands twisting it behind Vaako's back, slamming him into the wall, forcing their hands between Vaako's legs, drawing attention to his engorged flesh. 

"Having fun yet?"    


	10. Chapter 10

He never does get his gauntlet back, much to the Lord Marshall's amusement. The hounds growl and snap closing ranks around the one chewing on it, pushing him away every time he tries to reach for it. 

Only later does he wonder why they never bit or clawed, as they are prone to doing in the throne room. 

In his rooms, Vaako removes the hastily donned armor taking care to hang it up properly if not to clean and check for damage. He could have one of the caretakers to the maintenance, but that would mean trusting them, or doing the work again later just in case something was not-so-accidentally missed. 

In the door of the bathroom, he stalls, half expecting Riddick to appear again as soon as he turns the water on. Unlikely, Vaako having left him sprawling lazily across most of the bed looking sated if not sleepy, but with Riddick's touch still burning on his skin—he can't help the hesitation. 

Riddick's release is still inside of him, sticky on his skin, congealed in his undergarments. Disgusting really, Vaako thinks, scratching his abdomen where his own release is smeared. He didn't account for /that/, offering himself—heat surges through him at the memory of Riddick's hand on his dick, the drag of calloused against delicate skin. Vaako had struggled, trying to get away from the scalding touch, from the Lord Marshall's amusement at his confusion. 

Confusion, he should not have been capable of feeling, not when following the faith's dictates to the letter clogs his mind. The Purifying chamber calls, but if he goes now—the Purifiers will whisper, gossip will pass from lips to lips, jump ship and to the rounds of the armada. 

If he can wait another day or two—, Vaako thinks, soaping his body, unable to contain a wince while soaping his ass. His ass hole feels raw, still open and—tender—, he shoves two fingers in ignoring the discomfort, twists and spreads them ignoring the way his nerves light up. 

Riddick had enjoyed forcing him to lose control, pinned to the cold tiles, the water showering down robbing him of breath. 

The Lord Marshall had mapped Vaako's body with mouth and hands, tracing every muscle, every patch of skin, like Riddick, was trying to memorize Vaako for future reference, lingering in spots which made Vaako claw at the wet tile and bite his lip bloody to keep from crying out.  

He doesn't quite remember when his hands found the Lord Marshall's body, in turn, just the sound that might be a growl or a moan, and Riddick arching into his hands, wordlessly inviting further touch. 

Warm skin under his hands is a novel sensation, the way bumps appear and smooth out again, the traces of hair  _stubble_  he remembers that feels like sandpaper against Vaako's skin. 

Vaako ends up on his hands and knees, the Lord Marshall heavy on his back, thick fingers opening him up too slow but at the same time too fast, Vaako's hair wrapped around Riddick's hand like a leash.  

Every time he tries to pull away from the fingers pushing deep inside of him, his head is pulled back until he's forced to shove himself onto Riddick's fingers shuddering and gasping for breath as they twist and unexpected pleasure rips through his body. Clawing at the floor, trapped between fighting himself free and— _submitting_  inviting further violation... 

He curses, forcing his hand away from his ass, slamming his knuckles into the wall—only to feel nothing.


	11. Chapter 11

In most species, it is true that the female is more deadly than the male.   
Since finding out his origins he has occasionally wondered what that would mean for Furyan females? If there had been any true-born ones and not prizes from other planets. Sometimes he likes the idea of such warrior women, other times he dislikes the implications.  
Most of the time he dismisses these thoughts and gets on with things.   
Introspection, Riddick has found, is only useful on long interplanetary voyages, just before the cryo kicks in, not that it ever does, not properly.   
He watches the Necromonger females parade through the throne room, light flashing off of jewelry and different smells that mix together into a nauseating miasma.   
In the back of the crowd, he can see Vaako standing in the shadow of one of the statues that litter the place. Standing at parade rest, Vaako might as well be a statue himself, but at least he doesn't make Riddick sneeze or his gut roil with nausea at the smell of him.   
Supposedly, the stiff is his right-hand man, not that he sees a lot of him outside of the throne room.   
He wouldn't mind to, wouldn't mind a rematch either, without the gun getting in the way or the fancy ax. Cut the stiff out of that armor of his, and get him on a mat or something—he ain't too picky, see just how riddled the walking corpse can get, nice and close, knives, hands, and teeth...


	12. Chapter 12

There isn't much ceremony, one calls for cleanup of the remains, and logs the transfer of possessions in the archives. 

In the case of—sentient possessions, there is a waiting period, in case the possession decides to become a master. 

Those stories, they don't become part of the canon, but they are known, whispered in the dark by Dames and Concubines to titillate during copulation, lovingly describing all ways in which great warriors and nobles were brought to their knees, some willing and eager to be taken apart in pleasure, the ultimate perversion to those who should wait for their Due Time.  

The Concubines, of course, are not blamed, it is their duty to tempt and seduce—the fools who give into them, are used for Lensor parts... 

He had had no ambition to acquire a dame, but she had been his former commander's, and when Vaako dispensed of him, she had become his. 

"Who does he think he is?" She sneers pacing their quarters, "he dares to play games, with me!" 

"He is the Lord Marshall! It is his right to do with his subjects as he pleases!" Vaako reminds her, taking off his armor. 

"Not Lord Marshall yet! Not until he visits the Threshold and gazes upon the Underverse!" She hisses, angry with him now, for not bending to her will as she expected him to do. 

"And until that time he is off limits!" He hisses in return and earns himself another sneer. 

"He's still a breeder, not even Purified! You should have slit his throat the first chance you got!" She trails her fingers, covered with claw-like rings, across her throat. A seduction and threat, one he had once marveled at, had _learned_ from. 

He lacks the attributes to wield her kind of power, "Why? Because you will never get the opportunity?" 

She lashes out, hands clawed, going right for his eyes, once an attack such as that would have excited him, now he catches her hands immobilizing them with ease and efficiency. They don't have time for play, and Vaako finds himself uninterested anyway.    


	13. Chapter 13

"Doubt and fury, doubt and fury—," the creatures moan and screech in core struggling in their cradles. Swaggering up, Riddick stalls in the entrance arch, his hand curling around the handle of one of his knives. 

"What the fuck am I doing here?" He demands. 

Vaako swallows his amusement, locking the doors to the hall to keep the Purifiers out. 

"Addressing the fleet of course," Vaako points at the platform in the middle of the circle, "what else would the Lord Marshall do in the chamber of the quasi-dead?" 

"Not happenin'," unless I decide to promote them." 

"And cripple the armada's communications?" Vaako asks pushing past him, circling the central platform touching the foreheads of each of the quasi-dead with reverence, "each ship has at least one member of the order in constant communication, untraceable by any outsiders—something that is convenient when we are readying for an attack." 

Riddick huffs his annoyance, letting his knife dance across his fingers in thought. 

"Attacking are we?" He almost looks interested, which Vaako considers a somewhat positive sign. 

"The recruits from New Mecca have been processed, we are in need of supplies and there is a system in our path that is teeming with life," Vaako tells him, "it is our duty to extinguish it." 

"So, what's that got ta do with me?" The Lord Marshall huffs. 

"They are your people, my Lord!" Vaako barely keeps his tone level, "they expect you to lead them!" 


	14. Chapter 14

The gates rise, and Vaako has to resist the urge to grab the Lord Marshall's cape to force him to keep a dignified pace. 

Riddick stalks forward setting the whole procession in motion, lords and ladies, purifiers and generals all of them surrounded by soldiers in gleaming armor. Surreptitiously he checks the data pad that's built into his gauntlet, reassured to see a check indicating the planetary leaders, and whoever had been judged impressive enough gathered on a nearby square waiting to be honored by the Lord Marshall's presence and offered the chance at the Underverse.  

The new Head Purifier is eager to test his powers of conviction, he's sure he can talk the survivors into conversion. Vaako isn't so sure, he remembers how often Zylow had to use his powers to convince the masses, Riddick does not process them for all his qualities, he _is_ the Lord Marshall, but without the power of the Underverse behind him, without the complete understanding gazing into the void of it grated...Vaako—worries. 

"Vaako," the Lord Marshall calls. He speeds up, leaving his proper position, to take position at Riddick's shoulder. 

"My Lord?" He feels the Head Purifier's hateful gaze boring into his back. If Vaako trusted the man to act for the propagation of the Necromonger cause, instead of his own self-interest—he'd happily cede position to the man, if Riddick would allow it. 

"Ya better make this shit worth my time!" Riddick grumbles under his breath, "and space whoever came up with this damned armor."  

"It is—," he swallows the 'traditional', forcing himself not to glare, "all the spaceports were decimated upon our arrival. Running would not accomplish anything."  

Riddick doesn't return the glare, but Vaako knows he wants to. 

In private, he might have tried intimidation, but here in the open, with all eyes on them—it seems Riddick has decided to refrain from his usual rather physical ways of demonstrating displeasure. 

"Don't worry, I ain't running," the Lord Marshall cocks his head towards him, and Vaako feels more glares on his back, "—yet."  

Vaako wonders how long it will take Riddick to quit his clumsy attempts to search through the Necromonger records and ask about Furya outright.  

He hopes it will not be anytime soon.     


	15. Chapter 15

Stepping into the dark quarters is almost like returning to the womb, like stepping through into the Underverse, or so Vaako imagines. 

Riddick follows, barking commands over his shoulder to the commanders and bodyguards who'd followed them from the banquet hall either in hopes to finish them off, or—? 

The doors shut in their faces, Riddick throwing the lock, leaving them as protected as they will ever be inside the Basilica. 

Here, Vaako can close his eyes, and allow his body to react, suck in oxygen and listen to his heart race deaf and dumb to everything else. The Lord Marshall will not kill him, not after going through so much trouble to keep him alive. He hadn't counted on being attacked, forgetting that the rank of First among Commanders is almost as desirable as that of Lord Marshall in certain quarters, forgetting the rewards of power. Forgetting that he should be honored by the Lord Marshall's interest in him. 

"Lose the armor," Riddick orders. 

"That is not necessary," he isn't damaged enough that a visit to the biological technicians and sex is the last thing on his mind. 

"That's _not_ a suggestion," the Lord Marshall's favorite knife appears, setting Vaako on edge. Riddick flicks his wrist and Vaako feels one of the fastenings snap, "take it off." 

He doesn't feel like trying to make time for repairs that can be avoided so he obeys. Glaring, Vaako reaches up, undoing enough buckles that he can lift the plates off his shoulders allowing Riddick to get at the undershirt. The shirt ending up in shreds on the floor isn't much of a surprise, neither is  Riddick's too warm touch on Vaako's skin, even if it's still a shock.  

He wants to pull away and arch into the touch at the same time. 

Riddick's hands skirt across his torso and arms, down to the sluggishly bleeding wound in his side, pressing the edges. Before Vaako can protest once more, the Lord Marshall drops to his knees sniffing loudly. 

"That wasn't a clean blade," Vaako barely hears the words, too distracted by his body's reaction to the Lord Marshall's position. 

No one should see the Lord Marshall on his knees, certainly not Vaako— 

"The Underverse does not accept warriors without honor, commander Sol..." Riddick presses on the edge of the wound and Vaako's knees buckle, something sharp and hot ripping through his body— 'pain' he remembers with some difficulty, something he hasn't felt in cycles. 

"You were saying?" Riddick rises, picking him up seemingly without effort, Vaako makes his legs obey refusing to be carried over to the ornate bed.  

"If it pleases the Lord Marshall, I believe I should visit the technicians," he's still clear-headed, the weakness is annoying, but Vaako is sure he can make it down to the biological maintenance level as long as he is careful, the lack of armor, or shirt, may cause comment but not fast enough he would have to worry about attack... 

Riddick pokes at the wound again, and Vaako digs his hands in the slick sheets to keep still. 

"Ya ain't gonna please me by croaking," he says, sniffing and prodding around the wound again, "now you can try to craw your way all the way down to the sawbones—," he gets up to gather the incense burner and several candles off the altar on the other side of the room, "or..." He pulls a blade showing it to Vaako. 

"Yes!" He doesn't have to think about it, Vaako knows it isn't his due time, he knows it in his bones. The biological technicians may be more efficient, but even if he makes it there, his weakness will be public knowledge, and poison will become the weapon of choice. 

He watches Riddick do something to the burner making the flame turn blue, heating the blade until it glows with reds and yellows. The flame is blindingly bright in the dim room, but Vaako doesn't want to turn away, to show further weakness. 

"Don't bite down," the Lord Marshall orders, it's all the warning Vaako gets before the heated knife is pressed to the wound sending Vaako howling.  


	16. Chapter 16

"Lord Vaako," the Head Purifier bows his head, back ramrod straight. 

"My lord purifier," he nods in return, resisting the urge to bow. 

"Will the Lord Marshall be joining us?" The man asks eagerly, looking over Vaako's shoulder. 

"No, the Lord Marshall is otherwise occupied," Vaako takes a little pleasure in watching the Head Purifier deflate. The man's machinations to get himself noticed by the Lord Marshall had not gone unnoticed by the military contingent, along with his inability to get Riddick to join the fold, "I am here at the appointed time." Too late, if it was left up to Vaako, but coming in sooner would be admitting that the assassination attempt had weakened him.  

He had preferred to suffer the discomfort of amplified sensation instead, and the Lord Marshall's fascination with his state. 

"As is proper, until Underverse come," the Head Purifier smiles. 

"Until Underverse come," Vaako echoes.  

"I shall leave you to it, my Lord," he raises his arms, and the gates to the Purifying Gallery open. 

Vaako doesn't bother to answer, the gallery beckons. 

Once the doors close behind him, the silence is defeating, even the hum of the engine removed by architecture and isolation. Only the sound of his breathing and his footsteps are left, only the rush of blood in his veins. 

With every step he takes, the sounds amplify, swell like the planet-side tide until his very being is consumed by the sound. Drowning in it, he barely feels the restraints picking him up, taking away the last shreds of control. 

Vaako gives himself over willingly, welcoming the pain when the needles pierce his neck, the one pain that remains with a Necromancer forever.


	17. Chapter 17

He never realized how sensitive the Purification marks were until Riddick decided to mark his throat. The teeth marks and bruises were to be expected, breeders were territorial, and Riddick more than most. 

Vaako had suffered silently until Riddick fixated on the pitted scars. Pinning Vaako to the bed, he licked and sucked at the tissue, tracing the scars with his tongue until Vaako felt heat surge through his nerves, settling deep in his gut, waking his flesh and making him ache for release in new and unnerving ways.  

He had always considered release to be the goal or power coupling could grant over the one you were with. 

Touch seemingly for the sake of touch—wastes time. 

If Vaako had the time the Lord Marshall spends mauling him to himself... 

Riddick shifts, pushing his thigh between Vaako's legs pressing in until Vaako can't stand the pressure any longer and grabs for a broad shoulder, digging his nails into muscle, intent on spurring Riddick on—his hand slides up to cup the back of Riddick's skull, his thumb digging into the soft spot at the base of the skull, and finds himself holding on exploring the way the skin moves as Riddick lick his way along Vaako's jawline—sounding like one of his pets.  


	18. Chapter 18

He doesn't like the hellhounds. 

Not only because no one seems to be able to determine what the creatures are, not because they attack nobles and purifiers at random, but because they for an unknowable reason have decided to adopt him. The beasts follow him around, awkward and hulking in their lazy, well-fed state, they doze in the middle of the control center and getting in everyone's way.  

He tries to lock them in unoccupied quarters, which results in only a brief few hours of solitude, or close to it before the doors have to be replaced and the hounds find him again. 

He leans back, bored for a moment with the numbers on his pad, cursing when a heavyweight drops in his lap. Looking down, he meets silver eyes blinking up at him. The creature growls, a deep rumble, that vibrates through Vaako's body, reminding him uncomfortably of their—master?  

Feeling foolish, he lets his hand slip off the table, and land on the scaly forehead. The creature's neck scales flare, accompanied by a flash of crimson, but his hand isn't bitten off so Vaako leaves it there, thumb stroking the wide nose until the thick tail moves, tapping a steady rhythm against the metal floor. 

"This means nothing," Vaako tells it, annoyed when the creature makes itself more comfortable against him.  

The hellhound starts to purr. 


	19. Chapter 19

When he falls to his knees in front of Riddick, Vaako doesn't expect his existence to continue for much longer. Studying the glittering specs embedded in the floor of the Necropolis, he goes over the things that will be left undone once he's disposed of, and how the new Head Purifier will manage to explain an unpurified breeder's ascend to the throne.  

'You keep what you kill' is the basis of their faith and culture, thus Riddick cannot be ousted without recognition—yet someone impure should not have been able to best the Lord Marshall in open challenge. 

The upside of his disposal, of course, will be that none of that will be Vaako's problem. 

He won't have to deal with the purge that follows every ascend to the throne. Won't have to follow the usual first command of the new Lord Marshall for the traitors to be eliminated, for posts filled by less suspicious personnel, and the deserving punished. With amusement, Vaako considers fitting all three the categories. Around him, the rest of the elite follows, dropping to their knees, accepting the impossible. 


	20. Chapter 20

He doesn't know how long they all spend kneeling as Riddick sprawls on the throne, the corps at his woman at his feet. Kneeling is no hardship, but it does get tedious after a while, Vaako glances up at the male occupying the throne, wondering how long he's going to last and who the first person will be to break the rules. Toal will fall in line and so will Zamos, Scales perhaps, or one of the High Purifiers to starve off controversy—"Right, fuck off all of ya!" The Lord Marshall thunders, making Vaako wince at his language, "except you ax-boy!" He adds as Vaako starts to rise, sending him back to his knees. He listens to everyone scatters, the sounds of the empty Necropolis resuming, the thrum of the distant engines and zoom of nearby electronics and ventilation. Something chimes softly in the distance, reminding Vaako that he hasn't seen the elemental since the gathering began, if she is still there, still watching... 

"What happens to the dead?" Riddick demands, unexpectedly too close, his hand landing heavily on Vaako's shoulder. The weight of it unbalances him, almost startling him into jerking away. He can feel the heat it gives off against the side of his neck, heat no Necromonger would give off. 

"The remains of those who's due time came, are shot into the hearts of nearby stars. The rest, are used as parts for Lensers, or disposed of through the sewage system." 

"Charming," Riddick judges, circling Vaako, dragging his hand across his shoulders until it catches on Vaako's hair. 

When he's Purified, Vaako can kneel for hours on end without discomfort or fatigue, but he's getting tired now. Hunting Riddick has disrupted his purification schedule and the effects are disconcerting. Riddick's fingers find the soft spot at the base of Vaako's neck a threat that feels—pleasant. He wonders when he's going to feel the cold blade of the knife with the same intensity as Riddick's very much alive flesh. Vaako can ignore pleasure as well as pain when necessary, he would be a poor soldier if he couldn't stand discomfort when necessary, but the itch that starts under his skin, spreading from the back of his neck through the rest of his body is new, as are the sensations it elicits. 

He wants to rise without permission, stand as tall as the Lord Marshall and look into the strange silver eyes...Riddick's hand tightens in his braids, dragging his head back into a painful arch, a sign that his wish being granted—the power of the Underverse? A sign Riddick is worthy of the title he has just won? 

"And what is she?" He demands, jerking his head in the direction of the woman. 

"She is whatever the Lord Marshall desires," he offers, lowering his eyes as best he can, trying to radiate submission. She had had potential after all, but as a new convert—she had not yet earned a place in the Underverse and yet... 

"Good answer," Riddick tells him, letting Vaako go, "who takes care of it?"  

A good question, with the Head Purifier having recused himself, and the shock of Zylaw's end echoing through the ranks. Has she been part of the armada longer, she would have had a commander who could have taken care of the arrangements, a proper place in the structure of things—she had been a fighter, and the Lord Marshall's—at least in spirit, it would be the honor of the First among Commanders to arrange the disposal of her remains, but Riddick has not yet appointed one... 

"If my Lord wishes, I will make the arrangements?" He offers, sure his assistance will be rejected, yet unwilling to neglect the duties of his rank. 

"Why?" The Lord Marshall demands, stalking over to kneel next to the corps and brush a strand of hair out of the woman's face, tracing her jaw with his knuckles. 

"Would you know who else to order?" Escapes before Vaako can censor himself, unnerved as he is by the situation before Riddick can take offense he adds, "you can always kill me if the arrangements are to your satisfaction, my Lord." Rising, he bows as properly as he's been taught, a gesture that goes ignored. The humorless chuckle that answers him, sends shivers down Vaako's spine, but he takes it as agreement. 

Riddick's knife flashes and a curl of the woman's hair disappears into a pocket. 

"Do it," he is ordered, as Riddick stalks off, possibly in the direction of the sound of chimes.  


	21. Chapter 21

"We still have business, lady," Riddick tells the empty room. 

Elementals—better than the stiffs, at least they don't stink, not the same way. 

He can feel her move around, calculating probably, deciding if it's worth taking the chance and sneaking past him. Even with the bells, she's managed it before with the stiffs, he smells her where she wasn't supposed to be often enough. 

Crafty old broad, he wonders how old she really is—how difficult she'd be to kill. 

"Yes, I must have a ship, preferably one that will not be shot out of the sky as a scout as soon as I approach a planet with a commercial spaceport." She says, appearing well out of arm's reach on a breeze of engine oil and something sickly sweet that seems to be her personal scent. 

"I was thinking more along the lines of canceling da bounty," he reminds her. 

"I did promise I would, as soon as I am returned to civilization," she snaps, "I keep my word!"  

"Now!" He demands, pulling his knife from its sheath.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Completely forgot to post yesterday, or well, remembered in the morning so of course, it registered as already done by the time I got around to it *sigh*.


	22. Chapter 22

The sanitation technician with a cart turns into the corridor, just as Vaako yanks the knife from the bodyguard's flesh. The cyborg loads the corps and wipes the hallway without comment, barely nodding in Vaako's direction before going on his way.  

He still makes a mental note of the technician's number, if anything goes wrong, he'll know which section to turn off next rest cycle. The bodyguard was—unfortunate, but unavoidable. He hadn't known who was paying the bribes but had passed on information about the Lord Marshall's whereabouts anyway. Vaako couldn't let him keep existing, even as a Lensor. 

Of all the places, he'd expected to find Riddick in the middle of the night, the communication hall wasn't it. Not with the Lord Marshall's distaste for the quasi-dead. 

Vaako circles the chamber, after making sure the main doors are closed and slips through the side door used by sanitation crews and the purifiers tasked with taking care of the quasi-dead. 

It leads him to the control platform in the back, with a clear view of the chamber below and the Lord Marshall standing on the central platform, all five quasi-dead, silver eyes glaring at them in the darkness of the room. 

"Show me Furya!" Riddick demands. 

"Difficult..." The quasi-dead answer, "difficult! " "Furya burns" "The Riddick fights" Their voices overlapping, twisting together into a tangle of sounds. 

"Push harder!" He tells them, bracing against the invisible force, his hand on his knife, knuckles white with strain. 

The scream in protest, aware perhaps that the command cannot be refused, and yet cannot be obeyed without endangering the subject.  

"Now!" Riddick growls, and the quasi-dead obey.  

The pressure in the chamber rises, even Vaako can feel it from behind the wall.  

"She knows!" The quasi-dead moan, "she will guide! She will lead!" While the pressure still rises, bringing Riddick to his knees, reminding Vaako of the first time the Furyan had entered the chamber, had started the sequence of events which brought them to this point. 


	23. Chapter 23

The data station mocks him, sitting in the corner of the room fully operational and completely useless. No voice commands, or printing function, only the keyboard, and display that glows like a star every time he turns it on. 

Most displays, his goggles make at least somewhat readable, if he can't manage without using them, but the stiff's technology is strange, incestuous amalgamations of different designs from all the planets they've destroyed, evolved through the years into something that's alien even among the starts. 

The stiff's tech is as fancy as the rest of their shit—/decorative/, and barely functional with it. He didn't even realize the thing in the corner of his quarters is a data station until Vaako needs to answer a call during one of their conferences.    

He could call Vaako, or pull a random stiff from the hallway to read the information out to him—admit weakness...Admit weakness to a back of rabid zealots eager to stick a knife between his ribs. 


	24. Chapter 24

Once the Lord Marshall leaves the throne room, Vaako finally rises to summon the sanitation technicians at the nearest terminal. After, he returning to stand guard over the woman's body until it is collected by two sanitation technicians and a minor Purifier to prepare for disposal. 

With the corps taken care of, he goes back to his quarters bracing for another battle as he enters. 

The Dame would have expected him to attack Riddick in his moment of weakness, but Vaako can't see any honor in such a victory. Requesting the Lord Marshall execute him on the spot, might have spared him the pleasure of listening to the Dame rage, Vaako considers as the door shuts behind him. 

She isn't there to his relief the chambers dark and empty, a rebuke to him along with her absence. He only notices, once his armor is off and he is under the shower, the bathroom is empty of the usual accessories of the Dame's trade. It once again resembles the showers in the officers' barracks and for the first time, Vaako finds himself relaxing in his own home. 

He had never been comfortable with the opulence expected from the higher ranks having known only dormitories before being Purified and barracks for a long time after.  

Marriage had been expected after he had been promoted to commander and so the alliance with the Dame was formed.  He had not regretted the union, but submitting to the trappings of a noble felt—restricting


	25. Chapter 25

The intruder alarm wakes him instead of the clock.  

He doesn't make it to his feet, but at least his hand closes around the knife he always keeps under his pillow. Vaako doesn't stab around himself wildly, instead, he waits closes his eyes in the darkness for a sound or a change in the air. 

It comes much later than he expects; the intruder is already next to the bed. He strikes low and feels the knife snag on something but not sink in to flesh. Instead of the expected attack he hears laughter and the knife is twisted out of his hand. 

"Nice try, pretty boy." 

Anger rolls over him like a tidal wave making him jerk in the Lord Marshal's grasp trying to get away and trying to attack at the same time. Only years of training and muscle memory prevent him from making a complete fool of himself. They separate and Vaako manages to slide away giving himself some room to find a weakness to exploit. The darkness is a disadvantage but not a serious one; he knows the layout of his own bedroom from memory and knows how to take advantage of every stick of furniture in it. 

His knife ends up embedded in the headboard and out of commission and Vaako loathes the idea of going for his gun when the breeder seems to be unarmed.  

As good as he is the fight still ends with him pinned under Riddick's bulkier form arms twisted high up on his back and face pushed in to the carpet. He waits for the knife in the back of his skull or possibly for Riddick to bite his throat out like the animal that he is. 

Instead he gets sniffed and a hand combing through his braids, while Riddick makes himself comfortable on Vaako's back. 

"Not bad, guess I was wrong thinking you were just another stiff," the Lord Marshall muses happily. 

"As my Lord Marshal says—," Vaako tries to pull his head away the petting getting to him in disconcerting ways. 

He wiggles in Riddick's grasp arching his back further in an attempt to give himself room to twist away without breaking an arm and realizes to late that he has miscalculated. 

Arching his back thrusts his ass out and the breeder is closer than expected and extremely happy with the situation. Vaako remembers that breeders on the whole feel their passions burn far faster and brighter than any devout Nectomonger and Riddick is far more bestial than most. 

The animal growls his pleasure, rubbing against Vaako's body. 

"Lively aren't ya?" He says far too amused for Vaako's taste. 

It's an effort to go slack, but Riddick's obvious displeasure at the move is pleasing. 

He's petted a few more times, but Riddick moves off of him radiating annoyance, but doesn't leave. Sitting up, Vaako watches him circle his bedroom opening cabinets and drawers—pawing at Vaako's things until he finds the armory.  

Not all the weapons Vaako keeps are functional, some are mementos of past campaigns, others are ceremonial or impulsively pilfered from planets about to be purified in earlier years. Riddick looks with his hands, Vaako notices, trailing his fingers over the edges of knives and axes, closing his hands around the handles of weapons—ignoring the guns. 

Suspicions form in Vaako's mind, he turns away from the Lord Marshall, watching him explore from the corner of his eye. Guns are efficient, even the solid projectile ones are far safer and efficient than close up kills and yet—there is no way to confirm his suspicions without undermining the Lord Marshall's credibility... 

"Having fun plotting?" 


	26. Chapter 26

All he can do is take advantage; learn from the animal, perfect his skills so that when an opening is finally presented he will be able to strike and win.

Of course, the situation does have other advantages aside from a high potential for advancement...

"Should be quieter when plotting—"

The words are mouthed into Vaako's skin, Riddick pulls him closer, rolls more of his body weight onto Vaako and starts gnawing on the skin around Vaako's purification marks conveniently in his reach. 

"—it will get you further."

"As you wish, Lord Marshall..." Riddick's laughter vibrates over Vaako's skin, it sinks into his bones and stirs the embers of something that might possibly be arousal deep in Vaako's gut. The Lord Marshall isn't unaffected by their proximity either, from the feel of it, his interest is already grinding against Vaako's hip.

At least one of the animals has woken up hungry.

Riddick pushes his thigh between Vaako's legs, makes Vaako spread and make room for him. Lazily he rubs their bodies together while marking Vaako's throat with sharp bites.

Vaako is rarely bothered by physical discomfort thanks to purification; he should barely be able to feel the animal's teeth in his flesh and yet every bite makes him gasp and arch.

His hands find their way to Riddick's skull, thumbs dig into the dip made where the skull meets spine pressing slightly and getting something like a purr in return.

The Lord Marshall arches into the dangerous hold, grins down on Vaako then twists his head to sink his teeth into Vaako's lower arm. If it wasn't for one of the side effects of purification Vaako would be covered with scars.

Vaako still resents the fact that Riddick refuses to show care in his presence, the trust is galling.

"If it makes you feel better I can tie you up," Riddick offers, clearly amused, reaching behind him to catch Vaako's wrists and guide them down to the mattress, scraping his teeth across the swell of Vaako's pectoral, "the way you corpses dress, figured you'd bring it up sooner."

Riddick laughs outright when Vaako tries to kick him in the side, slapping him in revenge, before pinning his hips and rocking against him until Vaako is too distracted to fight.

"Was I right?" Riddick pants in his ear, reaching for the slick.

Vaako desperately wants to object, but rough fingers spread his cheeks, and one blunt finger pushes in—far to slow for Vaako's liking.

"Don't move," the Lord Marshall orders, Vaako curses, and claws at the sheets, breathing evenly through gritted teeth as Riddick finds his prostate, teasing it, until Vaako trembles from the strain.

His hands on the back of Riddick's neck without his say so, clawing at Riddick's shoulders as Vaako arches into the fingers opening him up, offering himself without a word.

Riddick doesn't stop the teasing even as he guides himself into Vaako's body centimeter by centimeter as slow as he can, panting roughly against Vaako's throat.

They rock together, slow and languid like there aren't at least a dozen underlings waiting right outside of the Lord Marshall's quarters, the more brazen ones likely arguing with the guards to be allowed entry.   


	27. Chapter 27

Vaako should feel nothing but contempt for such mindless waste of potential, as he uses the ship's internal security systems to watch the Lord Marshall stalk the nobles through the halls for entertainment. Except a small, almost strangled part of him can't help but applaud the pure, predatory instinct to hunt.

Not that Vaako's thoughts on the subject matter, it is not up to him to curb the Lord Marshall's amusements as long as they do not interfere with the fleet's running.

He'll never admit that the game looks far more fun than the usual avenues available to seek entertainment.


	28. Chapter 28

They download the planetary databases of each planet they cleanse. Accessing the database of Hellion Prime, it doesn't take Vaako long to find the information he wants: a list of killings, corruption and seemingly endless list of stolen goods, missing persons, reports of escapes from various facilities of incarceration, and rumors, rumors too fantastic to be true. 

Fond as Vaako is of thinking of Riddick as a mindless animal, fond as the Lord Marshall is of playing the part, Vaako has seen him craft and adjust strategies in the middle of combat, and show impressive insight when analyzing information. 

His main interest might be for survival, but his actions are of a thinking, planning soldier.   
A warrior who has managed to stay ahead of multiple warrants for his destruction. 

The list of mercenaries who've tried to bring Riddick in is almost as long as the list of his crimes. 


	29. Chapter 29

Of course, the Lord Marshall drags his hand through the display the first time it's turned on, disturbing the delicate calibration of the antigrav stabilizers that allow the viscous liquid to be formed into different shapes.

The system they are examining consists of a small star and three planets.

Not the type of system they usually chose, but Vaako hesitates to suggest a richer hunting grounds as long as there is a chance their leader will turn on them.

He wonders if other commanders had this problem?

It's hard to imagine Covu or Baylock causing their commanders these kinds of problems, instead of humbly accepting their destiny. He's gotten word of commanders grumbling, displeased with such paltry opportunity to extinguish life, they grumble and yield as the faith demands, but Vaako knows their lack of understanding is dangerous.


	30. Chapter 30

"What are they doing here?" Vaako asks, eyeing the pack of hellhounds milling around between the Lord Marshall and the nobles. The procession is about to get underway and the last thing he needs is to worry about someone getting mauled.

"Fresh air will do them good, might quit nibbling on your precious lensors for a bit if they're let out for a hunt," the Lord Marshall shrugs, "promise they're only going to munch the locals."

The hounds come up to him, butting their heads into his legs in greeting or displeasure at the wait.


	31. Chapter 31

Riddick doesn't scream, that isn't what wakes Vaako. The Lord Marshall doesn't utter a sound, doesn't even move—but something in the room changes the very air perhaps and Vaako opens his eyes to see Riddick sit up.

He shifts, lets the sheets rustle warning Riddick that he's observed.

"Nightmares," Riddick grunts, "never had no nightmares—I'm what others have nightmares about," he twitches when Vaako lays a hand on his back but doesn't move away.

"Dreams can have great significance," Vaako offers, wondering what Riddick might have seen in his dreams. Purification takes the ability to dream, from most, only the greatest among them, the most powerful ones, the ones connected to the Underverse retain their dreams, "the Head Purifier would be happy to advise you on the matter."

"I just bet he would," Riddick agrees, his tone telling Vaako that he'll space himself first before talking to any Purifier.


	32. Chapter 32

The asteroid shudders, an alarm goes off in the distance.

Riddick curses, rolling to his feet, disappearing into the dark hallway.

Vaako stumbles after him, tripping over his own feet, still not used to the strange way the world looks.

New lights flash all around the console as readings roll down the screen barely legible with his new sight. Ships firing down from orbit, some distance from them but coming closer.

"Good thing the hangar's camouflaged, hun?" Riddick huffs, " _not_ your pals," he adds almost to himself, pressing buttons almost at random, "mercs…" he groans after flipping several more switches and squinting at the readouts, "so much for Breezy taking care of the bounties."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aand I think this is me caught up from my vacation :P


	33. Chapter 33

He's had the maps memorized for decades, repeated the coordinates to himself over and over again in spare moments so not to forget. Vaako knows where they are supposed to be going, but the last marker getting fainter and fainter sends a chill down his spine.  

There is a lot of black, get stranded between planets, and if you're on a beacon someone may find you in a couple of years, get stranded off beacon and you might as well ghost yourself. 

He digs his fingers into Riddick's shoulder, feels the tension gathered there, probably the same reservations running through the man's head. 

The beacon beeps come further and further apart until the signal falls mute. 

Riddick flips a switch and the engines stop. 

A spacecraft is never completely silent, life support will still pump around air, moisture will still be harvested and purified, garbage turned into energy. 

True silence means death in space. 

True silence means listening to blood rushing through your body and your own panicked breathes as you struggle for oxygen.  

Vaako takes a deep breath and exhales slowly.

Riddick leans back against him, takes a breath of his own and throws the switch.

The engine roars, they shoot forward with a jerk, tearing away from the safety of the beacon out into the black.


	34. Chapter 34

The hatch opens onto a clearing, vegetation, and rocks around the edges obscuring kilometers and kilometers of forest floor stretching out in all directions. It smells—Vaako watches Riddick hesitate, squinting into the shadows ahead.

He kicks at the edge of the hatch, swaying forward, but not stepping over.

Vaako doesn't remember the plants, he hadn't paid a lot of attention to them, to the surroundings, too busy mowing down wave after wave of soldiers, proving himself worthy of higher rank.

He steps over the airlock, descending to the very edge of the hatch.

The vegetation doesn't move, the forest around them is silent, but there is something in the dry air sets Vaako's teeth on edge.


	35. Chapter 35

As soon as he sets foot on the dirt, feels the vegetation brush his skin, he _knows_.

A dizzying sense of certainty spins him around, takes his senses for a ride filling him—like water flowing into a cup filling it to the very brim. 

"Riddick!" Vaako falls to his knees next to him, unaffected by whatever it is that has him by the balls. 

Vaako has his back, his hand wrapping around the back of Riddick's neck, squeezing comfortingly, as Riddick fights to suck in oxygen. 

His lungs burn, nerves screeching, sending signals to and fro his brain can't interpret. 

He claws at the dirt, rich and soft, 'fertile' something whispers from the back of his brain 'yours', 'home'.   


	36. Chapter 36

He comes to wrapped in thermal blankets, still lying on the dirt of the world that swaned—his people. Around him, the grass has been cleared to make room for a fire large enough to cook on.

Vaako crouches next to it, poking at something in a pan with a spoon.

"What the fuck happened?" He grunts, sitting up, still dizzy from the sense of 'home'.

"You fainted," Vaako tells him with relish, dropping the spoon, "the excitement became too much I suppose?"

"I don't faint," he grumbles, shaking like a dog to rid himself of some of the dizziness.

Vaako chuckles, sitting back against a bedroll, making sure his gun is at his side.

"Worried?" Riddick wonders, his hands going to his knives.

"There is something alive here," Vaako frowns, "that doesn't show up on sensors."

"'course there is," the universe is full of monsters, he'd almost be surprised to end up on a planet without them.

Not bothering getting up, he crawls over grinning when he sees Vaako's eyes narrow with interest.

With his new eyes, he's harder to read, only a little harder considering Riddick knows every one of his tells.

He drops in Vaako's lap, grunting his pleasure when Vaako instantly wraps an arm around him. 


	37. Chapter 37

Thermo blankets and a fire, the jungle around them, over their heads, half covered by foliage—the black speckled with stars. 

Lying back, Riddick digs his hands into the dirt, arching up into Vaako's mouth. 

Teeth sharper than they used to be scrape across his skin, followed by a tongue that's always been too sharp for comfort. 

Vaako's breath is hot on skin rapidly cooling now the world's sun has set. 

The nights are cold, even with the fire they shiver wrapped around each other with all the thermo blankets around them.  

Sleeping in the skiff would be warmer—but that would mean stepping off the planet. 

Vaako's stubble scrapes across the inside of his knee, tickling, teasing as the former Necromonger works his way across Riddick's body. 

"Stop playing!" Riddick groans, and Vaako laughs, deep in his throat, a vibration more than a sound. 

"Yes, my Lord," Vaako mocks, then swallows him down all the way to the root.


	38. Chapter 38

The trees look ancient, behemoths twisting towards the sky, some as wide as a skiff. An impossibility on a world that had been decimated only three decades previously.

Vaako can't remember noticing trees before, they had appeared in the periphery on every landing but he's never been surrounded by them before.

Riddick disappears for hours at a time, exploring the jungle around them, leaving Vaako to his own devices and with too much time to think.

Feeling foolish, he strokes the slick bark, hoisting himself onto one of the lower branches on impulse.

To his new eyes, the tree is a kaleidoscope of shadow, shifting and alive with creatures. He ignores the later, reaching for the next branch. Twisting and turning, Vaako climbs higher and higher, pushing himself with no clear goal in mind.

For the first time in his life, Vaako has no purpose.

On the highest branch that will still hold his weight, the straightens up, looking out over the canopies, watching some winged creatures circling in the distance.

The tree shakes, and Riddick pulls himself up, settling on a branch next to him.

"There is something there," he points at the flying creatures.

"Or someone," Riddick agrees, excitement almost pouring off of him.


	39. Chapter 39

He wakes up with a scream, waking Vaako who reaches for his gun, rows, and rows of graves still before his mind's eye, the sky over them roiling with colors.

These days, he's not sure which colors he sees in his dreams, his memories of them are jumbled, red, green and blue are just words. Only in his dream does he still see them, bright and vibrant, terrifying in their intensity.

"What is it?" Vaako whispers, scanning their surroundings, rifle in hand ready to deal with a threat that isn't there.

"Nothing," he grunts, unwilling to admit to the nightmare, terror still churning in his gut. Vaako has seen him after a nightmare more than once on the Basilica, distracted him from the memories of them.

It had been easy to allow himself to be distracted then, the dreams had been less intense, didn't cling to him as they do here, "going for a walk."

There are no graves on the planet, he's watched Vaako torture the scanners trying to find something that could explain how the planet survived the emblem...he shouldn't keep seeing them, remembering digging in the earth with his own bare hands, exhausted and broke, stubbornly carrying on for no good reason.

"We /can/ leave," Vaako speaks up behind him, having followed, "come back with better equipment."

"Better gear won't help," and the thought of leaving—he can't, his body seizes at the thought. That Vaako doesn't feel the same pull, frustrates the hell out of him.


	40. Chapter 40

The jungle has taken back whatever parts of the settlement that had been left standing. 

Only the shapes betray man-made constructions stood where now vegetations flourishes, a sharp angle here, an unnatural spiral there. 

A dark crevice turns out to be an entrance, one they barely fit through, weapons raised, ready for an attack from the darkness. The air is musky and damp, not stale exactly, not dead but not pleasant either. 

The narrow corridor leads down, twisting and turning, doubling in on itself. 

Vaako wishes for sensors, Lensors, a stray animal to send already of them into the darkness that's proving—not so dark.


	41. Chapter 41

They drag the matrasses off the bunks, making a nest right behind the cockpit.   
Stretching out, Riddick can feel the throbbing of the engine through the walls almost in time with his heartbeat.  

Off-beacon, cyro isn't an option, someone has to be awake at all times to pilot the crate out of the path of danger when needed. 

The heap of blankets next to him moves, grumbling indistinctly, twisting and wiggling until Vaako's head is on Riddick's thigh.  

He can feel the other man's breath through the fabric of his pants, human breath, not the too slow breathing of the Purified. 

Now he's back to human, Vaako moves in his sleep, snores and farts like everyone else gets cold and steals all the blankets, his heartbeat strong and steady in Riddick's ears. 

No longer sharing a bed with a corpse is nice. 


	42. Chapter 42

The hallway narrows claustrophobically, until Vaako stars to worry about getting pinned down, with Riddick's in his firing line. A twist forces him to bend and crawl through sides, but behind the next bend, the darkness—breathes—the sensation of space almost dizzying.  

It takes him a second to realize that the 'darkness' is just space, a cavern stretching to the horizon. 

A cavern full of crosses. 

"Fuck!" Riddick breathes, stepping back into Vaako, "fuck this!" He groans, turning away to look back into the tunnel. 

"Unusual," Vaako conceeds not sure why the sight affects the other man. 

"This shit ain't right," Riddick leans into his shoulder, "shouldn't be here!"  

"But you aren't surprised to find it, are you?" Vaako wonders. 

"I ain't," Riddick concedes with a heavy sigh. 


	43. Chapter 43

Every cross bears a name.

Sometimes Vaako can tell which are male, and which are female, others are collections of letters he isn't sure how to pronounce.

"Couldn't read them when I saw them before," Riddick says, fingers dancing over the cross board, leaving fingerprints in the dust coating it.

"Standard alphabet, not so standard names," Vaako thinks doubts there will be another 'Richard' on the whole planet.

They leave a beacon by the entrance along with a scanner unit, deciding against exploring further without additional equipment and supplies.


	44. Chapter 44

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This drabble is a direct sequel to Sharing is Caring day 21 of kinktober 2018 I just have no idea how to link it.

He comes to squashed between metal grating and muscular ass, a long, skinny tail slapping his side as it waves to and fro.  

The metal grate vibrates under his hand. 

Something clanks behind him, someone yelps and Vaako is kicked in the ribs by a small paw. 

He shouldn't feel it; his armor should protect him from the razor-sharp claws—would protect him if it wasn't missing.  

The hellhound pup bears needle-sharp teeth at him with a squeaky growl. 

Vaako raises a hand to push him off, only for a far deeper growl to freeze him in place, the adult animal glaring down at him over its shoulder turning faintly pinkish around the muzzle. 

Nails clank on the grating and another muzzle appears, more squeaky barks and growls rising up somewhere out of sight. 

Vaako gets ready to yell, when the floor under him buckles, an alarm sounds, and Vaako finds himself floating in mid-air ducking claws and fangs of displeased beasts while trying to gather the pups before they drift off somewhere dangerous cursing whatever happened to the artificial gravity. 

"Took you long enough," Riddick says pushing through the hatch from the cockpit. 

His armor is missing as well, replaced by ratty clothes Vaako vaguely remembers seeing on the Furyan the first time Vaako had the misfortune to lay eyes on him. 

Looking down at himself, he grimaces establishing he's been left in his underclothing. 

Memory reasserts itself, the sweet taste of the blue fruit in his mouth. 

"You poisoned me!" He growls, arms full of pups the only thing that's keeping him from going after Riddick that very moment.   

"Still breathing aren't ya?" He's asked in return with something that's probably supposed to resemble a shrug as Riddick drifts over to the hounds to run his hands over reddish scale until all of the adults are calm, if not particularly happy about their predicament.  

"What happened to the gravity?" Vaako demands wincing as one of the pups sinks his teeth in his arm. 

"Turned it off, saves battery," Riddick answers over his shoulder ripping the covering off the edge of one of the bunks and rummaging around the cabinets until he finds the netting used to secure cargo. 

"Come here," he orders when the netting covers a large part of the bunk's open side. 

Vaako gladly hands over the pups one of whom manages to scratch his cheek as it paddles across the air in Riddick's direction.  

"You should have just put them in cages!" Vaako grumbles rubbing his cheek and, much to his disgust, realizing he's  _dripping._  

"Ya don't lock friends up," Riddick growls, and for a moment Vaako thinks he'll be attacked only to have a small baggy shoved in his hands hard enough to push him to the other side of the cabin. "Now clean yourself up!" 

**Author's Note:**

> So apparently there was kind of a mess with two unposted chapters which were duplicates of 17 which I just sorted out. Teach me to use the archive's draft function.   
> Everything is sorted now.


End file.
